


Conduit

by moistdrippings



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 19:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12688971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moistdrippings/pseuds/moistdrippings
Summary: When they survive, Will and Hannibal need each other's touch.





	Conduit

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Kinktober 2017, for the prompt "sixty-nine" — and mostly because I realized I'd never written this position before. Now I have!

The need for touch was immediate and present the moment Will opened his eyes on land again. He didn't know where he was, how he had survived, or if he was even really alive at all, but he knew, deep in his marrow, that he needed to find Hannibal and feel him with his own skin.

Finding him, as it turned out, was easy. Will could hardly turn his head, but when he reached out with his left hand, there was Hannibal, inches away from him on a soft, warm mattress. Will sought out Hannibal's right arm, snaking his hand up first to feel for a pulse — present and surprisingly strong — and then to press their palms together so he could wait for Hannibal to move his fingers, to show some sign of awareness.

"It's just us here," Hannibal said, squeezing Will's fingers weakly. "Get some rest. We both need energy to heal."

Will did, slipping back into sleep with his hand still in Hannibal's.

For the next several days, Will was hardly parted from Hannibal at all. They spent a great deal of time asleep in bed, getting closer and closer with every movement until they were pressed side to side. If Will's shoulder or Hannibal's side had allowed for it, Will was sure one of them would have turned over to get closer. When they weren't asleep, Hannibal often had his hands on Will, or vice versa, as they inspected and treated their wounds and helped one another to a small bathroom not far from the bed. The longest separation they endured was when Hannibal went to get them food; Will didn't know how much was cooking and how much was finding, but most of what he brought to the bed was simple, unadorned fare, as if Hannibal was just as eager to return to Will's side as Will was to fight through his pain to find him.

On the fourth day, the pain subsided enough for Will to sustain an erection. He shifted, half uncomfortable and half determined to make use of it, and said, "Hannibal."

He heard a deep inhale, and looked to his left to see Hannibal's face in an expression not unlike the one he wore when savoring the aroma of wine. Without a word, Hannibal reached out with his right hand and cupped Will through his boxers.

"Jesus." Will's body struggled to figure out how to rise into the pressure without agitating its own wounds, settling into a fidgeting sort of half-thrust.

Hannibal pulled his hand away and sat up. He didn't wince, but Will could see the pain drawing his features tight. Nonetheless, he turned, carefully, and looked down at Will. "Lay on your side."

Will obeyed, shifting slowly onto his left side. His shoulder and face ached, but it was hardly worse than when he had been on his back, so he didn't protest until he saw Hannibal move to his own left side. "Your stitches—"

"Will be fine," Hannibal said, though he touched his hand to his stomach briefly as he adjusted himself. "I have a much higher tolerance for pain than most."

Will didn't protest further, knowing both that Hannibal was right and that he would continue as he was even if he was in pain. Instead he watched attentively as Hannibal pushed and pulled at Will's underwear, shuffling his boxers down his thighs until his hard cock sprang free. He leaned in, taking a deep breath with his nose at the side of Will's erection, and then took him into his mouth, his eyes half-closed in a look of rapture.

Will couldn't keep watching. The feel of it, the smell of his sweat and Hannibal's, staler than either of them would like, the sounds Hannibal made as he sucked him — it was all too much. He had nothing else to focus on, though, until he looked straight ahead and his eyes met Hannibal's groin.

He had never touched another man sexually before, but when the thought of it was laid out before him so plainly Will wanted nothing more. Hannibal was soft at first when Will fished him out of his briefs, but he was responsive, swallowing hard around Will's cock the moment he was touched and groaning deep in his chest when Will licked tentatively at his cockhead.

It wasn't easy, and Will knew he had no hope of replicating the skill with which Hannibal sucked him down yet, but it was, in practice, less intimidating than he might have anticipated. Hannibal was warm and salty-bitter in his mouth, a satisfying weight against his uncut cheek and his tongue. He couldn't use his right hand easily, but with a little shifting he got his left arm out from underneath himself and held Hannibal's cock in his hand, not moving much, just providing some further touch as he poured all his concentration into licking and sucking at the first few inches.

Despite his obvious pleasure, Hannibal never let his concentration break, devoting his all to Will's cock as though fellatio was his new favorite art form. Will couldn't say the same for himself; he struggled to balance his concentration between enjoying what Hannibal was doing to him and giving back what he could, and once he gagged when Hannibal reached out with his hand to pull Will's hips closer to his face. He had to take a moment to breath, the tip of Hannibal's cock resting against the corner of his mouth, but Hannibal didn't seem to mind.

Will came first, groaning and gasping, pulling off of Hannibal's cock to bury his face against his hip instead. Hannibal swallowed down all he gave, barely breaking time as he sucked him through it. When Will was done, squirming with sensitivity, Hannibal took himself in hand. Will licked around his fingers, fighting to participate until Hannibal drew his hand back, leaving the head of his cock exposed for Will to lavish attention on. He sucked and licked with all his attention, pushing himself forward on his left elbow to take just a little more, until his lips touched Hannibal's hand. He sucked hard, drawing back slowly, and drew the edge of a tooth lightly over Hannibal's cockhead before pressing his tongue to his slit.

Hannibal pulled Will's head away from his cock abruptly, bringing it back to stroke himself through his orgasm as he painted Will's cheek and lips with come. Will watched with half-lidded eyes, enraptured, reaching out weakly with his right arm to put his palm on Hannibal's thigh.

Hannibal twisted and shifted as soon as he got his breath back, not resting until he was face to face with Will again. His eyes roved over Will's face frenetically while Will stared back at him, tired and stupid with pleasure. Hannibal zeroed in on his lips, and swiped at them with his thumb, licking it and tasting himself. Will wished he was healthier, younger; he thought that he might have been able to start toward a second round if he hadn't been battered half to death by the sea and nearly slain by the Dragon. As it was, he was already feeling the pull of sleep, his boxers still around his thighs and come still splattered across his face.

He closed his eyes, and as he began to drift off, he felt Hannibal tend to him: cleaning his face with a corner of the sheet they slept under, adjusting his boxers until he was covered again, kissing his cheek where it barely hurt at all. He fell into unconsciousness with the weight of Hannibal's arm slung over his waist.


End file.
